Haunted From Within
by KeepTheHeid
Summary: A continuation from With or Without You. Set in 1914 during World War I, two years after the sinking of the Titanic. Carla/ Liam


**Hello :) So this is the first instalment of my new fic, set two years after the sinking of the Titanic. I'm not particularly sure yet where this story is leading and so this chapter may change a little as the plot develops.**

**This is just a wee chapter to start off. Please let me know what you think. Thanks :)**

* * *

It was an empty shell of a building, deep in the heart of the French countryside. Not so long ago it had probably been a beautiful piece of architecture but now it was missing half its roof, caved in entirely on one side giving the impression of lopsidedness. It was early, the first spears of bright sunlight advancing through the bullet holes in the wall and shining through the stained glass windows, casting bright and eerily beautiful shadows across the dusty concrete floor and the rows of pews standing straight and tall like soldiers.

Breathing heavily, Liam propped himself further up the wall, the gun still dangling precariously from his trigger finger. He tried to ignore the growing pool on the floor and concentrated instead on keeping his eyes open, forcing himself to focus on the carnage in the vast, empty room.

Three men dead. Two lying sprawled on their fronts, arms outstretched theatrically, a dozen feet separating them. The third slumped against the far wall, head drooping forward so all Liam could see was the top of his shaven head.

Outside in the distance, he could hear gunfire, whether friendly or not he couldn't tell and the longer he listened the fainter the sounds became, consumed by the leaden silence in the room - a silence that seemed to envelope the entire building - rising from the floor like a dark and malignant force, consuming everything, including Liam himself.

He was bleeding to death. Trapped in this desolate building with the corpses of his comrades for company. One bullet in the gut, another in the right thigh. The stiff coldness beginning to close in.

He'd thought a lot about death over the past few months. It was hard not to when surrounded by it twenty four seven but somehow he had never pictured it happening to himself. Maybe it was because his will to live was stronger than any force the German army could throw at him. He had a life back in England. A family and a home and a wife with his baby in her belly. And a promise. A promise to return home safely at the end of the fighting. He had so much to live for. Besides, his family had suffered enough already. The loss of his elder brother, Paul, two years ago, had hit them all hard.

When he thought of death - and he tried hard not to - it was in a vague and abstract manner. Something that happened to other people. But not to him ... never to him.

Now here he was, wounded and helpless. Lying in a church of all places. The irony of such destruction on holy ground was not lost on him.

He had married in a church because his mother had insisted upon it but he didn't believe in God. Hadn't since ... that night. Watching his brother slip away from him and asking why. Why did that have to happen? He never got his answer.

He could hear deaths steady approach now and he knew there was no escaping the inevitability. His thoughts turned to home and to the life he was never going to return to. He hoped his unborn child would forgive him for not being there for him or her. He hoped his parents and his little sister could forgive him for joining Paul far earlier than he'd intended but most of all he hoped Carla would forgive him for breaking his promise to her, spoken with such sincerity he'd thought for a moment she actually believed him. His life was drawing to a close, it was difficult to accept and he wondered briefly, as the pain and shock squeezed at his insides, whether he'd be remembered in ten, fifteen, twenty years time.

There was a sudden noise from outside, a sound from directly behind the door and Liam's stomach clenched painfully. He inhaled a sharp breath through gritted teeth. Surely nothing else was about to happen. Was this nightmare not over yet?

A loud scrape as the door opened and the form af a man appeared, sillouhetted against the sunlight streaming in behind him. Liam blinked against the sudden assault on his eyeballs and clenched his teeth, mustered the last of his strength to raise the gun feeling the pain in his gut sharpen as he did. He slid a little further down the wall, fingers tensed over the trigger.

Then the figure moved. Heavy footfalls as he entered the cavernous room and let the door swing closed behind him. A man of average height wearing regulation brown, his eyes wide as he took in the gory scene before him, travelling over the three bodies before his gaze finally came to rest on Liam. He frowned in startled recognition.

'Liam?' he asked

In his weakened state, Liam managed a feeble smile and allowed the gun to fall to the ground with a clatter. 'Hello, Rob.'

'What the hell happened?' He moved forwards, lowering his own gun.

And that's when the shooting started.

* * *

**Thanks for reading**


End file.
